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Caliandra Voultier
Fifteen Years Ago "Dragon-marked! Cursed! Demon-spawn!" the gaggle of children herded the girl out of town, pelting her with pebbles off of the ground. They chased her all the way to the bottom of a hill where they stopped and stayed out of sight while the girl ran up to the hut at the top. The girl lived there with a powerful and useful witch the villagers dared not offend. The village's children scattered when Elaina Voultier openned the door and let her young waif enter. "Grandmother, why do they call me names and throw things at me?" asked eight year old Caliandra. "Because they are ignorant and afraid, child. Pay them no mind and it will all come to naught," she gently ran her hands over the bruises and welts and healed them. "Is it because of the dragon? They say I brought it here and it's my fault the village must feed it," a teary-eyed Caliandra continued. "Nonsense, child. They only say that because they are afraid of the dragon and have no way to rid themselves of it. They say that because they are angry that they must appease it and offer tribute to it lest it comes back and rampage in the village again, like it did the night you were born. But no, it is not your fault." "What about this?" Caliandra points to the birthmark on her forehead. "The others call me cursed. They say this marks me for the dragon and that it's coming to get me." She looked about nervously, half believing the taunts of the village children. "There's nothing cursed about a birthmark, no matter the shape. Be at ease, it will no more bring you bad luck than good luck. And it certainly does not mark you for the dragon, even if they say it looks like one. Now, pay no more attention to all this foolishness and come along. I will show you more of my books and you can watch me make potions." Reassured, Caliandra followed her Grandmother's advice and tried to mind the villagers as little as possible. Five Years Ago "Strumpet! You keep your dirty claws away from my Ryn!" the young woman spat at Caliandra's feet and made a sign to ward the evil eye. Caliandra rolled her eyes at the ineffectual sign the woman made and muttered as she watched the other woman walk away, "If I had wanted your pathetic Ryn, you wouldn't have been able to stop me. Only you would think he was such a catch." She made her way back up the hill with the fresh bread gotten from the bakery where Ryn, the baker's apprentice, made googly eyes at her and gave her an extra large loaf. The bread has lost it's fine aroma from the unpleasantness of the episode in town. At eighteen, Caliandra had grown to be quite fetching with long ripples of blondish brown hair and a very shapely figure. The boys who used to pelt her with pebbles and chase her away to the hut babbled and gawked whenever she went to the village marketplace. Now it was the village girls' turns at making her feel the outcast with their stares and conspicuous whispers. As if she could forget the years of bullying to suddenly make unwanted advances toward the village boys. Though from the way they eyed her, she was certain any advances she made would hardly be unwanted. Still, none of them would see her as a proper wife, looks of longing not withstanding. The mark on her forehead kept her social status as untouchable as always. Caliandra pulled the hood of her cloak further down her head even though it was mid-day and quickened her pace home. "Grandmother? I bought fresh bread and some apples for a nice pie." She set the foodstuffs down and made her way toward Elaina's room. The elderly witch laid in her bed looking old and frail. It has been days since she felt well enough to brew a potion or bring the rain at the request, and payment, of the villagers. Caliandra had been selling off the old stock of potions and refusing the offers for the weather callings. Elaina knew she was getting older and nearing the end of her days. "Come here, child," she motioned for Caliandra to sit by her. "I won't be here to protect you forever. You will need to learn the skills to make your own way in the world when I am gone. Especially if you want to stay here in my place. These villagers will never accept you if you can't work a good amount of the craft." "Grandmother!" Caliandra protested, "You have dozens more years in you. I won't have you talking nonsense like that." "Of course, child." Elaina smiled but began to teach Caliandra in earnest as soon as she felt better. Five Weeks Ago "Oh Poe, it's just you and me now," Caliandra wept by the freshly covered grave site of Elaina at the back of the hut under her favorite apple tree. Her beloved Grandmother finally passed away. Although not related by blood (for Elaina had told her long ago that her mother came one fateful, as it turned out, night ladened with child), Elaina was the only family she had. Her mother was not of the village and no one knew who she was or where she came from. And as she died shortly before Caliandra's birth, it remained a mystery. Caliandra's raven familiar, Poe, groomed loose strands of her hair while she composed herself and went back to the empty hut. She was glad she at least had the bird, who came to her call when she first sent out her magic beckoning for a familiar. She remembered her relief at a raven hearing her summons and not something more in the pest category. Caliandra sighed at the stash of undelivered potions, set aside because they were the last thing on her mind these last few days. She will need to make a trip to the village to deliver these before their recipients accuse her of cheating them out of their coins, though more than a few paid in goods. She carefully placed the potions in her basket and retrieved the list of patrons. With the hood of her travel cloak low enough to cover her forehead, she made her way toward the village in the waning twilight. The first few stops were uneventful, only a couple of frightened children and one request to just set the potions down outside the door and leave. When Caliandra neared her next stop, the home of Kerlin, one of the village leaders, a couple of figures appeared from the shadows to block her way. "How about a drink with us?" said one of the figures. By the way he slurred his words, he sounded like he had already got a few in him. "Yeah, come drink with us," the other pipped in as well. Caliandra looked up and revealed herself from under the hood. "You do realize who I am?" she tried to speak as Elaina used to: composed, fearless, and with just a hint of the power ready to be unleashed should she desired. "The witch girl, what of it? I see the way you flirt with the village boys. Why don't you come see what real men are like." With that, Jenkins the blacksmith reached over and grabbed Caliandra's arm and yanked her toward him. He started to pull her behind a pile of hay when she remembered the first hex Elaina ever taught her. "You don't need to do that. Just let me go and I'll play nice," she purred, weaving a charm hex into her words toward the aggresive man. Not very resistent to the suggestion, Jenkins released his hold. Caliandra started to back away and made ready to flee back to her home when she heard a shout. "How DARE you?! How dare you use a hex on one of us?!" Kerlin loomed behind her with a fastly gathering group of others. "I.... You don't understand! He was going to hurt me. I was only getting him to let go of me." "No excuses! After all the tolerance we've shown you to allow you to stay in our village, this is how you repay our hospitality? By turning against us?" Caliandra was at a loss for words as she recalled the years of spurn and contempt, not to mention the torment by the village youngsters. Like a cauldron bubbling over, Caliandra's anger rose to new heights as she shook with the struggle to control it. With not another word, she turned to walk back to the hut. Behind her waves of curses from the now gathered crowd washed over her and chased her back up the hill. Once there, Caliandra sat herself down at Elaina's desk. She reached for the special pen and ink Elaina used to write in her scrolls and started detailing the vague birthmark on her forehead. "Dragon-marked indeed! I'll show you Dragon-marked!" Soon, she has used her birthmark as the template over which to draw the portrait of a dragon with its wings spread wide. The next day, Caliandra left her hooded cloak at home and walked head held high right into the village to deliver the rest of the potions. The villagers all stopped what they were doing as they watched in horror of her passing. She defiantly knocked on Kerlin's door and smiled haughtily as she dropped the potion he ordered in his hand, all the while revelling in the look on his face caught between shock, disgust, and most interestingly, fear. Five Hours Ago "You're all MAD!!! Let me out of these!" Caliandra found a bit of a surprise during her morning potion delivery. She had given up selling any potions for weeks since the villagers have ostracized her and haven't ordered anything in an attempt to drive her away, she assumed. Then an order came in from Kerlin. But that wasn't the big surprise. As soon as she got near the center of the village she found herself surround by villagers wielding pitchforks, shovels, hammers and whatever else that marked them for their trades. Within minutes Caliandra found herself bound by several thick ropes and being carried out of the village. Thinking they meant to kick her out of the village she pleaded, "I'll leave if you want me to, just at least let me gather my belongings." No one responded to her request other than the couple of snickers she heard. Gradually, Caliandra started to recognize the path they were taking her. "You can't be doing this! This is murder! You're going to leave me to die?!" Caliandra noticed that the villagers were carrying her to the sacrficing stake where the pigs, goats, and occasional cow were tied up and left for the dragon as tribute. "Should have gagged her too," one of the men commented. "Oh it's alright, how else will the dragon know to come for its food?" another snickered. At the reminder of the looming threat, Caliandra swallowed her next words and kept quiet the rest of the way to the stake. Her attempts at struggling only served to tear her already thread-bare dress but did nothing to loosen her bonds. Within a quarter of an hour, the villagers' brisk pace had Caliandra secured on a strong stake atop a bare hill. Thankfully, the ground of the hill top remained absent of any carnage. It would seem the dragon preferred to engulf its meals in one bite. The villagers quickly left her alone with her thoughts. Scanning the sky, Caliandra spotted Poe circling down toward her. She was glad to have left him at the hut. Who knows what the villagers would have done to him had he been present. She called out for him to come. Perhaps he would be able to free her. Five Minutes Ago Poe's valiant efforts have barely made any progress on the multiple thick ropes tightly wound around her. The sun above reached its apex and Caliandra feared that with it, the dragon will soon appear for its lunch. Squinting, she thought she could make out a figure in the distance. A rider on horseback, in full armor, making his way toward her. Or perhaps it's a mirage from five hours in the blistering sun. "What's the harm in indulging in a fantasy or two at this time?" she shrugged. "Hey you there! Could you help me out of there?"